Another Shot At Life
by Sarcastic Twists
Summary: Majorly AU. Getting expelled is starting to become the Pretty Committee's forte, isn't it? But this time, they aren't running back to BOCD. So, where else would they go, but Waverly Academy? Assorted Pairings. Collab with RhiniHeartBreaker!
1. Chapter 1

**Once again, the Pretty Committee seems to be in trouble...**

_"GUYS! We got kicked out of BOCD! Principal Burns found out about the trailer-list-switch from a while back and she's giving us 'long overdue punishment'," Alicia wailed._

_"Oh. Crap."_

**But they have a plan on how to solve this minor setback...**

_"So, it's settled then. We are going to Waverly Academy!" _

_"Just in time to rule another school." Massie smiled deviously. _

**If ****only**** they knew it wouldn't be that easy. Old crushes never seem to fade, do they?**

_"Chill with the Drama Queen act, Derrick. I've got a plan on how to get out of those absurd Jewelry Boxes," Plovert said, rolling his eyes._

_"And what would that, huh?"_

_"We could go to the famed school: Waverly."_

**With manipulative drama addicts and love triangles galore, these girls are going to get more than they bargained for...**

_"Those sluts are going down," Callie said maliciously as the Pretty Committee walked away, laughing._

_"Oh they are, darling. Right into the ground."_

_--_

_HeathFerro:__ I'm leaning towards the feisty brunette. She could be totally hard-core in bed._

_--_

_"She's mine."_

_"Well, let's see if that tall dude, who has the overbearing possessive look, lets you have her, huh dude?"_

_"You really need to stop saying dude so much, dude."_

**And when best party = alpha status it's only a matter of time before it equals D-R-A-M-A too. **

_Are you ready for Some Kind of Wonderful?_

_Then join the Pretty Committee for the bash of the year. After this, you'll find having Breakfast at Tiffany's is overrated. All those great Hollywood icons would begin to envy __you__. _

_When? June 3rd, 2009_

_Where? Telescopic Gardens_

_Wearing? Old Hollywood_

_Why? Because it's the best :)_

_--_

_Get ready for a night of intrigue, mystery, and fantasy when you enter Tinsley's Masquerade Ball. _

_Bring a mask and try to guess who we all are under there. But isn't it all the more fun when you don't know? I sure know it amps up the excitement. ;)_

_When? June 3rd, 2009_

_Where? Painted Dolls Hall_

_Wearing? Something totally unexpected. And your mask for entry, of course._

_Be there. _

**It's going to be some year. And we all know it's just a race to be "It."**

Another Shot _at _**Life**

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Well, I think it's time for a little background on the story. It was once posted under LovableHeartBreakers and called Waverly Meets The Clique, but we thought it kind of sucked. So, we are re-doing it now under my account. So, if anything seems _slightly _familiar, it's because you have read it before.

So, let's talk about the story now. It's set in the middle of freshman year in high school. All the characters in the It Girl will be mentioned, but some of The Clique characters will not. The It Girl members have already met each other, but there are no couples yet. Just crushes (some mutual) all around. It has the same story line as in The Clique, disregarding P.S. I Loathe You. They are all in the same grade (except for Chris Abeley who is a junior) and have most of the same classes. Unlike in Lisi's books, there is some difference in classes based on your intelligence. For instance, Brett and Kristen _won't _have most of the same classes as the PC and any of the other main characters for that matter : )

But for now, I'm (as in Sarcastic Twists) shall be taking over the direction of the story. My co-author is out of the country with very slow internet access. Trust me, I'm suffering right now. Hope you like it!

Oh, and REVIEW! ;)

-Sarcastic Twists


	2. Chapter 2

_Getting Kicked Out and Transferred_

**Block Estate**

**Massie's Room**

**4:20 PM**

Massie, Claire, Dylan, and Kristen were lounging lackadaisically in the iPad as they waited for Alicia to arrive. Principal Burns had pulled her out of class a few minutes before school ended and she had been there ever since. Every now and then, Massie would ask what was taking her so long.

As they were about to paint their nails to counteract the boredom, Alicia came barging in, near tears.

"I cannot believe this!" she yelled out.

"What happened?" Claire asked, slightly scared.

"GUYS! We got kicked out of BOCD! Principal Burns found out about the trailer-list-switch from a while back and she's giving us 'long overdue punishment'," Alicia wailed.

"Oh. Crap," the girls breathed.

"What are we going to do? My mom will make me go to ADD!" Claire said.

"My mom will literally kill me for losing the scholarship. _Again. _Do you remember what happened last time? This time it will be that times one million!" Kristen fell back on the floor, her hands covering her face.

Dylan seemed to be speechless. She didn't know what to do. They had been kicked out once and gotten back in by a near miracle. Dylan wasn't sure miracles happened twice in a lifetime.

However, Massie looked contemplative. And, dare I say, scheming. "Well, I think there is a way to cushion the blow of the expulsion."

"How? What could you possibly think would help? This is a disaster! I don't think your mom paying the school tons of money would help us," Alicia said harshly.

"No, Leesh. It's actually _somewhere _we can go that would ease the parental anger. And it's called Waverly Academy."

"_Where_?" Claire said. She had though OCD was the only "acceptable" school for these girls. There were more?

"Waverly Academy. It's in Rhinecliff, New York. That's the school where my parents met and where they fell in love. They say it was the best times of their lives. And shouldn't we, the Pretty Committee, have the time of our lives ourselves?" Massie grinned.

"I like it," Alicia said after a brief deliberation. Dylan nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, that's all fine and dandy for you three. But how are we going to get Claire and my parent's to agree? They actually _enforce _punishments when we do something. Not just take away our credit cards for a day," Kristen bit back.

Massie seemed to expect this. "Waverly has one of the best scholarship programs in the country. It was in an article in _Seventeen_," Massie added as she saw Kristen's incredulous look at the knowledge. "And Claire's parents are easily swayed by mine. Do you remember that whole wanting-to-move-to-Chicago thing? A few minutes with my dad and some coffee, and they'll be blown away by the 'fabulous opportunity'." Claire and Kristen seemed convinced.

"So, it's settled then. We are going to Waverly Academy!" Dylan cried happily.

"Just in time to rule another school." Massie smiled deviously.

- -

**Harrington Estate**

**Derrick's Room**

**5:53 PM**

Derrick put the video game on pause suddenly and laid his controller down, a determined look on his face. "Dude, I'm not going inside those Jewelry Boxes," he said stubbornly.

"Dean Don said we can't change so deal with it, Derrick," Cam answered while checking his phone. They had gone through this over and over again. Derrick just never gave up, did he?

"I will not deal with this! What if the other soccer teams find out we go to school in girly trailers? It'll be the end of me!" Derrick said dramatically. Cam could instantly see how he and Massie got along when they went out. It's impressive how much they sounded alike.

"Chill with the Drama Queen act, Derrick. I've got a plan on how to get out of those absurd Jewelry Boxes," Plovert said, rolling his eyes.

"And what would that, huh?"

"We could go to the famed school: Waverly."

"What the hell is so cool about Waverly?" Josh asked. Being the new boy at Briarwood (though the most gossipy) had its drawbacks. Little knowledge of these places was an example.

"Oh," Plovert quickly went to explain. "It's this really old, but really famous school. They have top-notch everything. Courses, books, campus-"

"Don't forget the hot girls and parties," Kemp added. Leave it to Kemp, to know about the hot girls.

"That too," Plovert added, almost as an afterthought.

"Hmmm, sounds good. Do you think our parents will be okay with it?" Derrick asked.

"Yeah, anything for our 'education'," Cam said mockingly. Really, the parents in Westchester only had one cardinal rule for their children: If you're doing something that would make us look bad, don't get caught.

After a few phone calls and explanations, the guys all had permission to change schools. The transfer forms would be in the mail by tomorrow.

--

**Waverly Owls Don't Listen to Cheesy Show Tunes.**

(Massie POV)

My foot tapped impatiently on the floor of the cab we were taking to Waverly. UGH! When will we get there!?

I know what your thinking; The Pretty Committee in a cab? Impossible! Well, there are no limo services nearby (and my dad had already arranged a cab for us) so we had to go grungy and survive in a taxi. This is so disgusting. Imagine what kinds of things have happened in these cabs. _Anyone _with a wallet can get in one. Well, it makes me feel a bit of the New York City girl I know I am. But, still. Who knows how many LBR germs have invaded my alpha air?

And to make things worse, the stupid LBR-ish cab driver has on some annoying music on. It sounded like it was from the beginning of the century!

Sadly, my iPod had died on the way since I had forgotten to charge it before coming. I feel like slapping myself (or maybe just that cab driver) at my stupidity. So, I had to endure the torture without the comfort of my Car Trip play list.

The rest of the PC members had remembered to charge theirs and were sharing. Claire was sharing with Alicia and Kristen was sharing with Dylan.

They, of course, offered to share with me first, but I declined. Who knows if they have earwax on the earphones? Disgusting. Sometimes being a perfectionist/germaphobe makes life a little difficult.

So now, I'm stuck listening to some oldies song and completely bored. What to get rid of first? The music or the boredom?

The music reached a screeching high note and I covered my ears in agony. The music for sure.

I tapped on the tinted glass that was between us and the cab driver, the only thing in semblance to a limo. The taxi driver nodded his head as if to say he was listening.

"Can you turn that awful music down?" I asked as politely as I could in my irritation.

"Yes," he answered. The music continued.

I waited for him to turn it down, but he didn't. "Well, are you going to?"

"Nope," he said cheekily.

My mouth dropped in outrage. How _dare_ he refuse a command from Massie Block!

No one does that unless they want to die a slow and painful social death. And that's just what this ugly cab driver was asking for. Though, it wasn't like a cab driver like him had much of a social life. Maybe I'll just _actually _kill him. Nah, even that was too extreme.

I relented, though. He is, after all, the one driving us to Waverly. If he suddenly stopped the taxi and ordered us out because he wanted to listen to his music, we would have to walk. And walking is for poor people, not people like Massie Block.

"Change the music," I ordered.

"No," he said, as if he knew he had the power in the situation. My teeth gritted together. Control your anger, Massie. This EW doesn't know what he's doing or who he's dealing with.

As I thought of the perfect way to get him to change the song, I smirked. Oh, he is _so _getting it.

"My father, _William Block,_ did hire you, correct?" I asked.

He nodded.

"He controls your salary, hours, and just everything in your _fascinating _field of expertise, right?" I sneered.

"Yes," he said, starting to sound suspicious.

"Well, if you don't change that music, I may just have to tell him to fire you," I continued nonchalantly.

I could see him grow pale. "You wouldn't."

"Try me," I challenged.

I saw him reach a hand over and change the station. I heard the beginning of Boom Boom Pow by Black Eyed Peas. _Success. _

"Now do you have a magazine up there? Preferably Teen Vogue?" I asked in a saccharine voice.

He quickly got the magazine from the glove compartment and handed it to me. I gave my infamous half-smile, while I bobbed my head to the beat. I leaned back and opened the magazine happily.

If conquering Waverly would be as easy as getting what I want from this cab driver, then it better be prepared to welcome its new queen.

--

**Waverly Owls Do Not Panic Or Give In To Boredom.**

(Derrick's POV)

Today is officially the worst day of my life.

Everything has gone wrong. Today was supposed to be a glorious day where we escaped our girly fate of the Tiffany boxes. Too bad, it wasn't going to be that easy.

First, when my driver went to pick up my friends, each took approximately an hour to say goodbye to their parents. Sure, they're not going to see them as often, but that doesn't mean that they're never going to see them again.

God.

Then, when we got to the airport, guess what happened?

The lines for the luggage check-in were all the way to the door. We asked very nicely to be moved to the first class line and the lady in charge just laughed! I would have done the 'Charles Harrington' way and bribed her with a large sum of cash, but I neither had it now, nor would she be that impressed. I'm only fifteen, after all.

So, you might have guessed it by now, we missed our plane and now we are waiting for the next flight, which has been delayed. Right now, we're just sitting in the waiting room while my friends are annoying the hell out of me.

"Derrick, what time is it?" Cam asked sadly, he was still depressed from the fact that for some reason Claire had never returned his text message. Well, the getting back together one. They had this new "let's be friends" kick. I wonder how long that would last.

_Not long. _

"Summer time," responded Plovert, trying to be funny, but we just glared at him. This is not the time, Plovert. We are in a state of crisis! And the crisis does not include cheesy _High School Musical _references!

"Add two minutes to the time I last gave you," I said to Cam.

He was getting on my nerves, his depression was putting a huge cloud over all of us, and at this moment we were all too frustrated to have him depressing us.

"When is this torture going to end?" Kemp asked while desperately throwing himself on the floor. "Please, just run over me with your luggage! I'll pay you!" he continued, looking up at the patrons in the airport.

The people at the airport just politely ignored him, obviously thinking he had mental problems.

A blonde girl stepped over him in a huff at him being in her way. Kemp, being the notorious pervert said, "Hmm, nice view."

We all cracked up. You can always count on Kemp to lighten the mood.

Josh was fast asleep, probably dreaming about Alicia. He kept mumbling her name every now and then. But, I also heard a 'Claire' and 'tropical paradise'. I'll have to ask him later what naughty dreams he thinks about.

And in an airport with little children no less!

"Hey, we might as well have some fun while we're here," I said. I mean, why not? We aren't going to do anything until the plane suddenly decides to stop PMS-ing and let us in.

"Yeah, I agree. Let's annoy people," Plovert suggested.

"Try to not get kicked out or we'll never get to Waverly," Josh mumbled in his sleep. Even in his sleep he just _has _to be the sensible one. Ruin it, why don't you, Josh!

"Ooo, I've got one, watch this," Kemp said.

We all watched as he came into one of those stores that surround the airport. He filled up a basket with lots of stuff, and then he went to pay.

Whoa, he was going to buy all that stuff? For what?

The cashier ringed everything up, and when she told Kemp the total, he searched his pockets. His mysteriously flat pockets.

He looked at the cashier with a sheepish expression. "Oops, I forgot my money."

The cashier's face turned unimaginably red and Kemp wisely escorted himself out of the store. We all cracked up.

"Dude, that was awesome," Cam said as we high-fived him.

Then, a voice came over the speakers. "May flight number 635 please go to their gates; the plane will leave in five minutes. Thank you for choosing American Airlines." I wondered belatedly if they ever get tired of saying that tagline.

Cam pulled out our tickets and checked the times. "Oh my god! Run, _we're_ flight 635!" He yelled at us, beginning to grab his stuff.

Oh, no. We are not missing another plane. I shook Josh and he mumbled something about Ralph Lauren.

Whatever, he can talk designer later!

I pulled him off the chair and we all started running towards the gates. We made it there just in time.

Thank God.

Soon, before we knew it, we would be in Waverly and all would be better. Cam would forget about Claire, Kemp and Chris will have a million girls to look at, Josh will get a new girlfriend, and I will forget about Massie Block.

The one girl that has made my life impossible.


	3. Chapter 3

**Waverly Owls Know Designer Clothes Don't Belong in Iceland**

_(Dylan POV)_

The dark emerald green trees swirled past our window while the gray sky looked ominous. I rested my head on the pane and closed my eyes for a second.

My iPod nano kept going however, playing Please Don't Stop the Music by Rihanna. Kristen slowly took away my ear bud, trying to be sneaky but failing miserably, and put it in her ear. She promptly began dancing in her seat and singing at full blast. I wasn't exactly sure _how _she could dance in her seat, but Kristen the Smarty did it.

I smirked, my painted red lips matching my hair. Kristen was so odd sometimes.

"Hey, Dylan. We're here," Claire whispered. I opened my eyes and tried to fix my mass of burgundy curls before we exited.

We opened the door in the back and met Massie on the sidewalk. She had her hands on her hips in an impatient manner.

"Gawd, could you have taken any longer? We need to have a quick rating before we enter Waverly!" she cried dramatically. I discreetly rolled my eyes at her dramatic attitude. But, that was Massie for you!

We lined up, with our backs straight, waiting for Massie to announce who would go first. Ugh, I always hated these ratings. I think they're pretty stupid, but I can't say anything. After all, I am able to say that I've never been kicked out of the PC!

Claire was texting on her ancient Nokia. It was probably to Cam. They were trying a new thing, apparently, trying to be friends. As if that could happen. They were still having problems, even in this whole 'friends' stage. She, of course, came crying to us every time they did. I honestly hope that they break up soon.

Not that I like to see Claire suffer or that I like Cam. Though, he _is _very cute. The black hair, multicolored eye combo was pretty hot. But, I digress.

Massie spotted Claire's inattentiveness and glared at her in that scary way that she manages to do.

"Well, Kuh-laire, since you seem so interested in your conversation, you should go first. Then you can get back to texting Cammie Psycho Eyes," she replied saccharinely. Wow, hypocritical much, Ms. Yellow Eyes?

Claire looked up, hearing the sound of Massie's voice. She looked confused as to why we were all staring at her. Massie's glare intensified.

Alicia widened her eyes and turned her head slightly toward Massie (who was tapping her foot impatiently) and told her with her eyes to get to the front, _now._ Claire pocketed her phone and walked up to the front, her confused expression still intact.

"Kuh-laire is wearing a borrowed navy peasant top with Aeropostal light washed jeans and white Keds," Massie said, raising an eyebrow at the "cheap" jeans and shoes. "She is also wearing a gold Stella McCarthy necklace and earring set, gold bangles, and pink-based makeup."

Massie patted her chin with her index finger, eyes narrowed. "8.4," she concluded.

We clapped politely and Claire scurried back to her place. Alicia went up next.

"Alicia is wearing a champagne-colored Ralph Lauren tunic dress, black leggings, and YSL crème wedges. She styles them with silver jewelry and black and red makeup," Massie continued. "9.5."

Alicia curtsied to the audience and we all laughed as we were supposed to. Massie beckoned for Kristen to come forward.

"Ms. Gregory is wearing a lemon yellow mini-dress, sheer tights, and turquoise Marc by Marc Jacobs pumps. She is also styling her new eyelash extensions, which look ah-dorable!" Massie kept going, getting into the ratings now. "9.5 for the extensions and awesome color combo."

"Our very own Marvil-ous is wearing the new Christian Louboutin stilettos, dark grey shift dress, and bright red skinny jeans. She has on the Swarovski necklace her mother gave to her for her birthday. Add white gold hoops and a grey headband and there is her outfit. A total 9.6."

I smiled brightly and walked back into my place. The highest rating went to me! And I had been feeling nervous that the red skinny jeans brought too much attention my thighs. Guess if they did, it was good attention. Last up, was Massie herself. Alicia announced it for her. "Miss Massie Block is wearing a grey and black plaid dress with dark purple knee socks and black pumps. Her signature charm bracelet is on her arm with hints of grey and silver on her face. I deem you a 9.7!"

"What would make me a 9.8?" Massie asked, as always when she got less than a 9.8.

"A bit more gloss. Glossip Girl Cinnabon?" I responded. Massie quickly applied more of the sugary-smelling lip gloss.

"Okay girls, now it's time to strut into Waverly like we own it. On four, walk to Good Girls Go Bad by Cobra Starship," Massie said, straightening her shoulders. "Ah-one, Ah-two, Ah-one, two, three, four," she whispered.

We began walking to the beat of the popular alternative song. Heads turned as we walked down the strip of land that lead us to the rest of our lives. I heard whispers spreading like wildfire, wondering who we were. I furtively used my peripheral vision to see Massie's reaction. Her infamous half-smile was all that clued us in to the fact that she loved the attention. We reached the check-in office in our dorm, Dumbarton.

Massie strutted up to the desk and put on a _file _(fake smile). "Hello, Mrs. Tullington." She looked at the wrinkly woman's name tag. "Has the luggage for Massie Block, Alicia Rivera, Kristen Gregory, and Dylan Marvil arrived yet?"

Claire wasn't mentioned because she had brought all of her luggage with her in the taxi. She was the only one of us with the amount of clothes that could actually fit in the trunk of the cab. The rest of us had only brought our electronics in our carry-ons.

Like our luggage could have fit in that tiny space. Puh-lease! We sent it early on to Waverly to avoid having to carry anything.

Mrs. Tullington looked confused. "Luggage? We haven't received any luggage."

Massie's _file _became slightly strained. "Excuse me?"

"Yes. We haven't received any luggage from anyone named Massie Block, Alicia Rivera, Kristen Gregory, or Dylan Marvil," she responded.

"Check on your computer. Maybe the luggage is just running a little late. But it _should _be arriving soon." Massie's eye twitched.

The old woman pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and turned to her computer. She punched in some keys and stared at the glowing screen for a moment. She looked up at Massie with a raised eyebrow.

"There is no luggage for M. Block, A. Rivera, K. Gregory, or D. Marvil coming today or any day for that matter," she finally said.

Our jaws dropped. _WHAT??_ Where the hell is our luggage, then?

Massie dropped the fake smile. She slowly turned toward Kristen and myself. Her eyes narrowed into slits.

"Where. In the freaking hell. Is OUR LUGGAGE?" Massie shrieked.

Kristen and I looked at each other and gulped. It was time for one of Massie's infamous bitch fits.

My eyes suddenly widened to the size of a small planet. Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no!

_**Flashback **_

"_Okay, Dyl," Kristen said, struggling to carry all of our suitcases inside the building. She wiped sweat off her brow. "Go inside and check in our luggage to where it's supposed to be sent. Remember, Waverly is in Rhinecliff, New York." _

"_Yeah, yeah." I waved her off and walked into the office building closing the door on Kristen trying to enter the building with the mountain of suitcases. She swore loudly, causing a teen mother on the street to cover her child's ears, all the while glaring at Kristen._

_I looked around for the desk to write in where we would send our luggage. Finding it, I almost ran to get to it. I wanted to do this as quickly as I could. My sisters were coming back from college for a visit and I want to spend as much time with them as possible. _

"_Hello, I'd like to send 15 Louis Vuitton suitcases belonging to Dylan Marvil, Massie Block, Kristen Gregory, and Alicia Rivera, please," I said kindly. _

"_Sure. Where would you like to send them too?" the young man, probably in his early 30's, asked._

"_Um…" I tried to think of where Kristen told me Waverly was. Oh crap, where is it?_

_I looked around and tried to see if anything sparked something. I saw a poster with a tropical setting and volcano in the background. Under it, it said Reykjavik, Iceland. _

_Ah-ha! That must be where Waverly is. Kristen did say something about the place starting with R. Duh, I'm such an idiot. _

_I smiled brightly at the man. "Reykjavik, Iceland, please." _

_**Flashback Over**_

I was brought back to the present and saw Massie practically spewing smoke from her ears.

"Which one of you was the one to send our luggage?" When neither of us said anything, she yelled, "WHO?!"

I meekly raised my hand, as though I was answering a question in class. Massie turned her pissed off gaze at me. I trembled slightly.

"You, Dylan?"

I nodded.

"Dylan," she started, a sugary smile replacing her earlier expression. Bi-polar, much? "Where is Waverly?"

"Um, New York?" I responded hesitantly.

"Good job, Dylan!" Massie clapped her hands like an excited teacher.

"And where is New York?"

"Here?" I replied, more like a question than a sure answer. Massie clapped her hands in approval again.

The rest of the PC looked as confused as I felt. What was Massie getting at?

"So why," she continued, her expression darkening, "Is our luggage not here?"

"Well," I said, looking around nervously, "It's… sort of, kinda… in Iceland…"

"WHAT?" Massie screeched like a banshee. "IT'S IN ICELAND?"

I was afraid to say yes, but did anyway, nodding my head like a scared puppy.

Massie growled, the vein in her forehead pulsing. "I'm going to _kill _you, Dylan!"

She suddenly lunged forward, but Alicia and Claire held her back. Massie thrashed and writhed around, trying to get away from their grips and to kill me. She kept yelling "Let me at her, let me at her!" I was completely shocked by Massie's violent tendency that I was standing frozen. Damn, I would have been the ideal target for an assassin, too shocked to move…

Claire and Alicia kept her back until Massie had calmed down slightly from her meltdown. They dropped her when she asked and, in a display of klutziness, fell flat on her butt.

I inwardly giggled. Wow, only Massie would fall after she just had a temper tantrum.

Massie stood up quickly and smoothed out her sweater dress. She put on a blank expression on her face, attempting to salvage some dignity.

"Well it's not so bad, Mass." We whipped around to see shy and quiet Claire smiling slightly. She seemed as though she was on _Animal Planet _trying to tame a wild tiger.

And in a way, she was.

"How in the world, Kuh-laire, is this 'not so bad'?" she quoted angrily.

"Well," she continued in the same cautious tone, "I still have my stuff."

"Good for you, Claire. Now how is this relevant?" Alicia said testily. She must have been angry (but in a more subtle way than Massie) about losing her clothes too. She _did _bring the new Ralph Lauren collection.

"This means I can share my clothes. So, none of you would have to go without clothes for the rest of the year!" Claire looked happy at her development.

The rest of us, however, stared at her as though she had grown a double head. Was she freaking serious? Does she honestly think we're going to share her clothes of all things?

"I'd rather go around naked," Massie said, putting into words what we felt.

"Well, we'd _love _to see that," a deep voice boomed in the lobby. We turned so quickly to see who it was, I was sure we'd all gotten whiplash.

It was a boy with golden shaggy hair and deep green eyes, almost exactly like mine. He was styling a royal blue Lacoste tee with a pair of worn in jeans. On his feet were a pair of black Ecko Red sneakers. In a word, he was _hot. _Drool-worthy at it's maximum level.

Surrounding him, were a bunch of other boys, each cute in their own way. One looked exceptionally clean and perfect. He looked as though he spent lots of time on his looks to get that 'flawless' look he sported. Another boy looked stoned out of his mind and was scratching his overgrown beard as he muttered something about 'the shrums'. The last of them was super tall and had wavy blond/brown hair. His chocolate brown eyes twinkled with mischief.

We all gaped discreetly (at least I think we were) for about three seconds. Then, Massie retorted back to his comment.

"I'm sure you would. I mean, it's not like you could get girls any other way, right?"

The PC and the boys surrounding the golden haired one laughed. Though the boys seemed a little mocking, as though the golden boy really _could _get girls. And a lot. But, maybe I'm reading too much into this.

The blond boy smirked. "I'm Heath."

"Massie, Alicia, Claire, Dylan, and Kristen," she said, pointing toward each of us in turn.

Heath looked at us as well, his eyes lingering slightly on Alicia's boobs. Typical boy, attracted by the mere sight of cleavage. Alicia quickly folded her arms over her chest. If only she knew that it drew more attention to them than it covered…

"Are you new?" Heath asked.

"No, we just come to check-in for fun, Heath," Alicia replied sardonically.

"Feisty, Heath likey," he said, his gaze settling once more on her chest. Alicia groaned and turned around, facing the wall.

"Dude, stop flirting. We have to get to squash practice," the tallest one said.

"Fine. Stop my fun, Julian."

Julian rolled his eyes while scoffing and motioned for Heath and the others to follow. Heath saluted to us in a cocky manner, and followed Julian. The rest scurried after them.

When they were out of sight and earshot, we turned to each other and squealed. Oh my God! Those boys are even cuter than the boys back at Westchester! We gossiped a bit about them before we remembered the pressing issue.

What were we going to do about our clothes?!

--

**Waverly Owls Do Not Harass Other People's Children**

Josh Hotz was listening to his iPod while thinking of what had happened recently. First of all, his unofficial girlfriend, Alicia Rivera, had framed him and put him in the trailers. Then, he had found the New York Yankees hat he had given her in the bushes. She hadn't even noticed that he had gotten her name monogrammed on the inside of the hat. And lastly, he was ruining any chance he had to be with her by leaving to Waverly.

Why had he followed Derrick to Waverly?

Truthfully, he didn't give a crap about the trailers. He found the massage chairs comfy and the mirror inside his desk handy. But he just had to be a follower. He would've stayed, but he had never found any reason to socialize outside of his tight soccer circle. He barely associated with the other guys on the team that weren't HART as Alicia would describe them.

Not that he knew who was hot or toned.

But Alicia had assured him that he and his group were pretty much it. Now he regretted it. How could Cam, Derrick, Plovert, and Kemp be so confident? Josh was completely nervous. Starting Briarwood had been just as bad, but he had met Derrick at the skate park and he had taken him under his wing. He was going to a totally different school where he didn't have a guide like before.

Now, he just had to pray that he would be as lucky as before. Next to him was Cam, who was texting on his phone. He seemed pretty happy and by his grin and easy posture, Josh was sure that he was texting Claire. Josh wondered how he would break the news to Claire that he was in another part of the state.

He nudged Cam and asked, "You're talking to Claire, right?"

Cam nodded.

Josh continued, "Did you tell her you switched schools?"

"No, I don't know how to tell her; we just agreed to be friends."

Without another word, he went back to giving his phone his undivided attention. Josh took this as his cue to end the conversation. He closed his eyes and tried to regain the deep slumber and amazing dream he was having before Derrick had oh-so rudely interrupted.

He had been dreaming about being on a tropical island with Alicia and Claire. He had no idea how or why Claire was in his tropical paradise, not that he was complaining. Considering they were both in hula skirts and bathing suit tops.

Yes, it was paradise.

Suddenly, Josh felt a huge bump and he could've sworn he flew at least a feet off his seat. Taking off his earphones, he tried to see what was going on. Then, the co-pilot's voice came over the speaker.

"We will be experiencing some turbulence. Please stay calm and thank you for choosing American Airlines." Josh wondered if they ever got tired of saying the same tagline.

He looked over to Cam and noticed that he seemed to be shivering in his leather jacket. He was clutching onto the arm rests and seemed to be hyperventilating.

"Cam, chill," Josh said to him fearing for his friend's health.

"We're going to die, and you tell me to chill!" Cam responded still clutching his chair as if it was life support.

"We're not going to die." Josh sighed.

"I knew it. Why did I let Derrick lure me into this? I'm never going to see Claire again," Cam said in a scared voice, "Oh God, Oh God!"

"Get a grip, man!" Josh said, shaking Cam by his shoulders, "It's just freaking turbulence!"

"Just turbulence? Do you know how many times turbulence has led to crashes?!"

"Uh, no," Josh said, rolling his eyes.

"Well, me neither, but I know it happens!"

"Dude, can you chill? You're scaring the other people on the plane," Josh said looking at an elderly woman's alarmed face.

"Does he need some Pepto-Bismol, or something? I have some in my carry-on," A woman offered Josh.

"Um, thank you, but no, it's his first time on a plane and he's just a little paranoid," Josh said smiling at the woman.

The woman shrugged and went back to watching the movie that was playing. Little Rascals, Josh vaguely remembered. Thankfully, the co-pilot made the announcement that they were free of turbulence and the passengers were free to move around.

Cam visibly relaxed and Josh patted him on the arm with a chuckle. Who would know that Cam was totally afraid of turbulence? He kept that tidbit of information in his files somewhere in the back of his brain.

He had a motto: Any information could be used.

Josh moved his carry-on so that he could get more of his favorite 5-gum, Cobalt. While moving his duffle bag, he managed to accidentally knock Cam's phone out of his lap and under the seat. Cam squealed and reached for it, but it slipped and with the vibrations of the plane, moved to the seat behind them.

Cam and Josh both turned back and saw the angry face of a woman that seemed to be PMS-ing, Josh observed, and a young boy about three years old. The boy had Cam's sidekick in his hands and kept flipping it and typing gibberish. The lady glared at Josh and Cam, and they both turned back to their normal positions.

"Somebody's grouchy," Cam said to Josh.

"How are you going to get your phone back?"

"What do you mean? You're getting my phone back," Cam said to Josh's disbelieving expression, "You're the one that knocked it."

"Sensitive one, my ass," Josh thought, before giving Cam a glare and turning back towards the lady.

"Miss, I'm sorry to interrupt you, but your son seems to have my friend's phone, could you please give it back to us?" Josh asked, piling on the sweetness, hoping to at least turn the lady's grimace to a normal expression.

"No hablo Ingles," The lady said, still with her mean disposition on.

"Just my luck," Josh thought and turned back around.

"Well, we're screwed. She doesn't speak English and we're both failing Spanish," Josh explained to Cam.

"Not my problem," Cam said to Josh and grabbed his black iPod and blasted his rock music full-blast.

Josh huffed and grabbed his iPod again; maybe listening to music would give him an idea.

About thirty minutes later, Josh saw the lady stand up and leave to the bathroom. With a smirk, Josh got out of his seat and sat in the lady's. He saw that the pudgy little kid had fallen asleep with half of Cam's phone in his mouth.

Josh widened his eyes at the little kid's ability. That could be very useful when eating hamburgers. He knew the little kid would be a God if he went to Briarwood.

Shrugging that off, he reached carefully for the phone. Slowly, he started to move Cam's phone out of the little kid's mouth. When he had almost all of it out, the little kid opened its eyes and started shrieking at an alarming decibel.

Josh grabbed Cam's phone, currently full of saliva, gagging and wiped it on his Diesel jeans. He moved to get out of the seat before calling too much attention when he saw the PMS-ing lady right in front of him.

He whimpered, and that was the last he did before he felt the lady's purse hitting him on his stomach, and his leg, and his shin, and not stopping there.

"Nunca, whack, molestes, whack, a mi, whack, hijo," The lady said while whipping him everywhere with her purse, which was full of God-knows-what.

"Perdon, perdon!" Josh kept screaming. It was one of the few things he _knew _in Spanish.

Thankfully, a flight attendant came over, asking what was wrong. Josh explained and the lady explained something in Spanish, but Josh had no idea what happened because the flight attendant just ordered him back to his seat.

Rubbing his shoulder, where the purse hit him multiple times, Josh wondered if he could sue for child abuse, but his lawyer was Len Rivera and he didn't know how he would contact him without calling Alicia first. And he was not calling Alicia.

Remembering the whole reason why he was attacked, Josh waved in front of Cam's face, trying to bring him back from wherever he went when he listened to rock.

He looked up and Josh handed him his sidekick.

"Thanks," Cam said with a grin.

Josh wanted to wipe that grin off his face with a punch.

--

**Waverly Owls Have No Problem Separating From Their 'Posse'**

Girls, girls, and more girls. Yes, this is paradise. If anybody regrets coming to Waverly, it sure isn't me.

Grinning at a group of blonde girls, squealing at our appearance, I can't help but feel as if I'm in a movie. You know, one of those cheesy high school movies where the popular group walks into the school and all the girls swoon. Yeah, I'm part of the group.

I wink at a brunette, and she looks away with a face of disgust, but I know better. She's sheepish to be in the presence of such a hottie like me. I'll ask her for her number later.

Surprisingly, Plovert pops into my head. I was sitting next to him the whole plane ride. I seriously don't know what is up with that dude. He's been my protégée for about three years now, and he still hasn't had a hookup or a steady girlfriend. Except Dylan, but that doesn't really count.

It's worrying me.

I've tried everything. I give him my Playboy magazines all the time, introduce him to all the girls I know, give him pointers in flirting, but none of it works. I have a feeling he's still hung up over some girl he went out with back in New Jersey, where he used to live. Supposedly they went out for, like, two years. Her name was Brittany or Briana, or something else with a B.

Anyways, it's been seven years. He should be over it by now.

We finally reach our dorm's office. Derrick goes in, and we all follow. Once in the office, I look around. It seems really old-fashioned. To my left I see a glass case filled completely with trophies of all kind, and a few seats for waiting. On my right there's a fireplace with photos plastered all around it. They seem like formal pictures from some kind of banquet.

I swear, my grandma could totally blend in here.

I let my sight go to the main desk. Derrick is already there and he has started sweet-talking the secretary, though I can't see why. She seems old enough to be our great, great, _great_ grandmother.

"Hello, there. How are you today, beautiful?" Derrick inquires.

"Well, I'm just fine, sonny. What can I do for you today?"

"Only one thing, besides gracing me with your presence."

Gosh, he can be so embarrassing. I mean, EW.

"And what is that?"

"Well, my friends and I are new. We would like to receive our schedules and anything else necessary."

"Sure, honey."

Linda starts typing and clicking away in her computer, and then she looks up and asks us our names. We state them for her, and she types a few seconds more, before she hands us a few packets.

"Okay, here is the school handbook, your schedules, room assignments, school newspaper, and your luggage has already been delivered to your rooms. Welcome to Waverly Academy," she says with a smile, while handing us each a stack of booklets and papers.

"Thank you so much, Linda," Derrick finishes off and leads us out of the office. We get to a tree in the front yard and I plop down underneath it.

I put my booklets on my lap and try to decipher what is what. I find the handbook, and I flip randomly to a page. Skimming the headlines, one thing stands out to me.

"Dude, we need to do a sport," I state.

"Umm, yeah, what's the problem with that?" Cam asks me.

"Well, according to this list, soccer isn't an option." I throw the handbook at Cam's face.

With a disbelieving look on his face, he catches it, and looks at it carefully. His jaw falls slack, and I know he's realized the problem. He shows Derrick the magazine and Derrick lets out a "Dude!"

"So, what do we do?" Josh asks, running his fingers through his already messy hair.

After a minute of thinking, Derrick finally responds.

"We'll have to play lacrosse. Cammie-boy, you can teach us a few things, since you've learned from Harris how to play and all," Derrick says.

Cam beams, happy to be given such an important job. That weirdo. I rather stay in the outskirts and not do anything. Girls, booze, and soccer, scratch that, lacrosse, were my only worries. And thankfully, it was staying that way.

I snatched my handbook back from Derrick's hands and picked up another paper. Room assignments. Apparently, it was a master list. So, it had all our roommates names alongside ours. Great, this meant I had to read them out loud.

"I've got the roommate assignments," I announced.

"Okay, read them," Plovert said.

I cleared my throat and read off:

**Cam Fisher-Easy Walsh in Room 212**

**Derrick Harrington-Julian McCafferty in Room 218**

**Josh Hotz-Brandon Buchanan in Room 222**

**Kemp Hurley-Heath Ferro in Room 320**

**Chris Plovert-Sebastian Valenti in Room 114**

**Dorm: Richards **

"Wow, not one of us is together," Cam pointed out.

"Awww, I'll miss my buddies," Derrick gushed.

"But, we don't even know those people. How do they expect us to just split up?" Josh inquired.

"Hey, at least we're in the same dorm," Plovert said, trying to be positive.

I sighed, and looked away. I noticed that to the right of our location, a girl was approaching. I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to fix it into an attractive state. But, when she got closer, I noticed there was no need. This girl had stringy blonde hair in a very messy bun with a pencil sticking out of it. Her eyes were framed by round, wire rimmed glasses, and she was wearing the most unappealing outfit ever. An oatmeal-colored sweater that seemed two sizes too big and khaki capris. And with her bird-like resemblance, she could've been Principal Burn's daughter. And I don't **do** administration's family.

"Hello, I'm Yvonne Stidder. I'm the head of the Student Council, and I saw you guys looking a bit lost. Can I help you find your dorm?"

Damn, she had a British accent.

Now, if only somebody could kidnap her and give her a total makeover. Cut her hair into some attractive layers, give her contacts, change her sense of style, and spray her all over with perfume so that she could stop smelling like Vicks Vapor Rub. Oh, and work on her speed-talking.

We all looked at each other. None of us wanted to get involved with this girl.

"Yeah, sure. We're in the Richards dorm," Cam responded.

Thank God for him. Always such a nice guy.

"Wow, lucky you," she said to Cam, smiling in what she must of thought was a flirtatious way. Cam looked uncomfortable.

"Come this way." She started walking away from the tree. We all followed her and she took us past a few buildings.

"This is the girl's dorm: Dumbarton. Visiting hours are until six, but everyone sneaks in. Just try not to get caught," Yvonne explained.

Wow, I need to get some pointers from my roommate on that. Hopefully, he's not a total nerd, and can actually help me in that department.

"Who are your roommates?"

"Umm, well, I have Heath Ferro," I told her looking at my paper.

"Oooo, you have Mr. Pony."

"Pony? What the hell does that mean?"

"I don't like to gossip, but I do know a few things about people."

"I have Brandon Buchanan," Josh said, probably trying to find out a bit about his roommate, too.

"Wow, you're lucky. Everything in your room will be clean."

Josh looked confused, but decided not to push for more.

"What about Julian McCafferty?" Derrick questioned.

"Well, I barely know anything about him; he's very quiet, but very popular."

"What do you know about Easy Walsh?" Cam asked.

"Nice. Two hot guys in a room," She smiled as she stopped in front of a building. "Here we are, Richards. Do you want to know anything else?"

We looked at Plovert. He looked deep in thought, but he shook his head no.

Yvonne shrugged. "Okay, well, if you need anything, I'll always be around. See you later," She said more to Cam than anybody else.

"Dude, she totally digs you." I punched Cam on the arm.

"Ew, she scares me." Cam shivered at the thought.

"She needs to get laid," Josh pointed out.

"Do you _think _anybody would tap that?" I asked him, raising an eyebrow.

Josh shrugged and was about to answer when Derrick spoke.

"Well, it's time to split up and go our own way." Derrick sighed.

"Okay, see ya." I bumped fists with them, and headed towards the stairs. My room was on the third floor. To anyone on the outside I seemed confident and ready for anything, but on the inside I was trembling to find out who Mr. Pony really was.

--

**SageFrancis: **I totally just saw Yvonne Stidder showing the new guys 2 their dorm.

**AlisonQuentin: **Don't worry, it's not like she has a chance with any of them.

**SageFrancis: **True, true, but she was flirting with the Easy look-alike.

**AlisonQuentin: **Well, I heard he was even hotter than Easy, and he has a blue eye AND a green eye. The double package.

**SageFrancis: **At least we're getting a closer look tonight at the welcome luncheon.

**AlisonQuentin: **Yeah, I hope we get to sit close to them, though.

**SageFrancis: **With our luck, they put Tinsley, Callie, Brett, and Jenny right next to them.

**AlisonQuentin: **Yep, that _would _be just our luck.

--

**HeathFerro: **Woot, woot. We just got shipped new material.

**: **Who's the first one to get a ride on the pony?

**HeathFerro: **I'm leaning towards the feisty brunette. She could be totally hard-core in bed.

**: **So true.

--

**CelineColista: **OMG! Have you heard about the new transfers?

**BennyCunningham: **Duh. Nothing gets past me, remember?

**CelineColista: **Of course! How could I forget Benny? XD. Anyway, apparently the girls used to be _major _alcoholic socialites in this small town in NY. Their school kicked them out for that and cuz they slept with like half of the student body. And it was an all _girl _school!

**BennyCunningham: **I heard that, too! I also heard about the new boys who came. There's only one way to describe them; Hothothot!

**CelineColista: **That's three words, Benny.

**BennyCunningham: **But the same one! So it doesn't count. And besides, we can't go for one of them. He's taken by the towhead of the girl transfers. -.- They're called the Pretty Committee. How lame!

**CelineColista: **Didn't _you _want to name our group the 'Beauty Babes'? Isn't that just as lame? And, Benny, seriously. When has the guy being taken stopped you before? Do the names Erik Olssen and Tricia Rieken ring any bells?

**BennyCunningham: **Very good point, Cel. That black haired boy is like a hotter version of EZ. Let the games begin. :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Waverly Owls Don't Share, Especially Expensive Designer Clothes.**

_(Kristen POV)_

I'm starting to believe my friends are just the _tad _bit dramatic. Well, 'starting to' isn't exactly the right phrase. I am sure that I've known that for a while, but right now just really proves that thought.

Massie looks like she's about to pop a blood vessel. She was glaring fiercely at the girl we've just met, Tinsley Carmichael, while the violet-eyed girl glared back. I sense a power struggle in the very near future. Two girls with that much estrogen and 'alphaness' can't survive too long in the same planet, let alone the same room.

I really cannot believe Dylan lost our luggage. Let me say it again so you fully understand; _she lost my freaking luggage. _I'm already steadily getting closer to lower middle class as it is. Soon, I won't even be able to buy more Puma tracksuits!

That, my friend, is the beginning of the apocalypse.

Right, well, as for the rest of us, we don't seem as outwardly angry as Massie at this new development. Alicia is silently stewing in a corner over the lose her clothes; Dylan is glancing around the room while periodically pinching her stomach and Claire is laughing with her roommate, Jenny.

There are some new girls in the room, our roommates apparently. One is named Callie Vernon with golden waves (not so different from mine that _finally _grew completely back), wide hazel eyes, and lightly tanned skin. She had a slight southern twang to her voice that seemed to radiate warmth with ill-concealed malice and a snobbish attitude. Oh yeah, _I can read people. _

The other girl, Brett Messerschmidt, had an edgy red bob (how I wish that could work for me) and cat green eyes. One of her ears was dotted with seven gold hoops that gave Brett a somewhat jaded look to her. However, it was obvious that she was _that girl. _The one who worked extra hard in school which made her the most intelligent, ruled all the clubs, and practically was the representative of the school (the most likely reason why she was on the school's website). She was sort of like me, actually.

We may just get along.

Next is the ever-innocent Jennifer 'Jenny' Humphrey. However, you wouldn't think she was so innocent with the huge chest she has; it makes Alicia look flat! Her curly brown hair and enormous eyes are her signature and she doesn't seem as high-strung or snide as our other roommates do. She is sort of Claire-like and if their instant chatting is any indication, they'll become close friends.

Lastly, Tinsley Carmichael. You can just tell by the stunning, long dark hair and narrowed violet eyes that she's a mega bitch. Her whole being practically radiates cunning and a cold front that hides whatever she is actually feeling. Just by looking at her, you know she's one of those girls who can cut you down in two seconds flat while your social standing falls with your pride.

Overall, she's the Massie Block of Waverly Academy.

A knock on the door rang through the room, dragging me away from my thoughts. "You girls' decent?" asked a male voice.

"Yes, Dean Marymount. You may come in," Tinsley said in a saccharine voice, her glare intact.

His thin, sandy comb-over popped in first before his blue eyes peered into the room nervously. Once he convinced himself that everything was fine for his viewing (though his eyes did pause slightly on Tinsley and Massie's heated death glares), he entered the room with a grace that could only be described as 'good breeding'.

"Hello, girls," he said charmingly.

"Good morning, Dean Marymount," we chorused.

"Well, let me get straight to the point. Tinsley, Callie, Brett, and Jenny, I have some bad news. Your new roommates have sadly lost their luggage in a mishap at the post office. Therefore, in the meantime, they shall be sharing with you four, specifically your roommate. Do you all have your room assignments?"

"Yes," Massie answered, finally tearing her eyes away from Tinsley to smile sweetly at Dean Marymount.

Great. They all have roommates that seem like Waverly's version of the Pretty Committee. Whom do I get? Some random girl. She's not even here to greet me! We were all supposed to meet in Massie's room to 'get to know one another'. Anyway, here are the room assignments:

**Massie Block-Tinsley Carmichael in Room 303  
****Brett Messerschmidt-Dylan Marvil in Room 307  
****Callie Vernon-Alicia Rivera in Room 311  
****Jennifer Humphrey-Claire Lyons in Room 301  
****Kristen Gregory- Elizabeth Green in Room 305**

From the looks of it, Massie is going to be fighting constantly with her roommate. I have a feeling it'll become of battle of wills that we'll be sucked into.

Meowsea. Or, if you didn't understand that sarcastic jumble, _awesome. _

"Well," Dean Marymount started, "That's all you really need to know. Just remember to come to the mandatory Welcome Dinner formally dressed, please." He turned to go back out.

"Wait a minute!" Tinsley cried.

The Dean looked toward her. "Yes, what's the problem, Ms. Carmichael?"

"Didn't we already _have _a Welcome Dinner? You know, at the beginning of the year?"

"Yes, but as you can see, we have new students. Moreover, they are important enough to get another Welcome Dinner. So, I suggest you get over this little problem you have with the dinner, Tinsley," he said dangerously. Whoa, I wouldn't want to get in trouble with him.

But with the way life is with the Pretty Committee, I would not be surprised.

"Fine," Tinsley stated curtly. Her violet eyes spit fire at the Dean. Massie looked on with a smirk as Dean Marymount left the room without another word. His black coat seemed to swish around in an ominous Professor-Snape-from-Harry-Potter way.

Hehe, I think I'm the only Pretty Committee member who has any idea who Professor Snape _is. _

"So." Massie looked expectantly at Tinsley. "Are you going to give us any of your clothes? Since there is a Welcome Dinner to go to."

Tinsley sneered. "You do know that I _really _dislike you."

"Um, Tinsley, do I look like I sell fertilizer?"

Oh God. I inwardly rolled my eyes at the much-used 'diss', but looked as if I was anticipating the 'burn' Massie would give her on the outside.

"Well, currently your clothes look pretty damn ugly. So, maybe," she said.

Massie ignored her. "Then why did you think I gave a crap if you hate me? Hate is just another way to have _power, _Hon. It might be a new concept for you to know." Tinsley looked even angrier than before. "All I need you to do is get out some of your clothes and give them to me. And the same goes for the rest of you in here for the rest of my friends." Massie looked around icily at Jenny, Callie, and Brett. Callie looked fiercely back, her hazel eyes attempting to burn a whole in Massie's glossy hair. Brett just looked annoyed, but over all uninterested. Jenny cowered slightly in fear, but tried to seem as though it did not affect her _too _much.

"Let's go, girls. I think it's time to look around campus," Massie said. I almost expected her to snap her fingers twice and lead us out like puppies. We went anyway, because it was time to make a dramatic exit. I knew the drill well. It's all to make us look cooler and in control than we already are. We exited frostily, each giving the girls in the room (minus Jenny since Claire seemed slightly protective of her now. New Layne?) a superior look and a condescending hair flip. However, I lingered slightly at the door cracked open slightly. My curiosity will be the death of me, I swear.

"Those sluts are going down," Callie said maliciously when she thought we had left, laughing aristocratically.

"Oh they are, darling. Right into the ground," Tinsley said, nonchalantly.

And I just knew that this couldn't be good.

--

**Waverly Owls Know Ugly Clothes Can Always Be Fixed With An Emergency Fashion Kit.**

_(Claire's POV)_

"What in the name of Jesus is this monstrosity?" Alicia exclaimed, holding up the dress Tinsley had given her. She and Callie had supplied all of the clothes for us, for a reason unknown, but with the way things were going, we might want to give them back.

These things were just scary.

Alicia's was this burnt orange-and-blue argyle floor length dress (thank you Massie for the useless lesson on clothes) that clashed horribly with her tan with darker purple heels. I had a beige boatneck dress that made me feel like Kendra Block on a nautical kick and a nudist touch. I had my own clothes (that were better looking than this designer crap), but the Pretty Committee (cough, Massie) said I had to suffer the same way they do. Dylan was given a gold, practically see-through dress with thick straps that overwhelmed her slim shoulders. Kristen got a Japanese-style kimono dress that she kept pulling down to try to maintain some form of modesty. And Massie, oh dear God Massie, she got the scariest of them all. Her dress had a plunging V-neck that showed off what she didn't exactly have and fanned out unflatteringly everywhere while the hem reached her calves. The color was pale lavender, at least, so it seemed like it wasn't so bad.

Yeah, try telling that to Massie Block.

"Congrats, Alicia, you know what the word 'monstrosity' means," Kristen replied.

Alicia stuck her tongue out at her. "Shut up, Kuh-risten. I am not so dumb that I don't know what monstrosity means. That's like saying that autonomy _doesn't _have to do with cars. We were in the same English class, duh!"

Kristen looked at her incredulously for a moment before shaking her head. I agree, Kristen, it is a lost cause.

The door suddenly swung open and in came my roommate, Jenny. She was really nice and not exactly the richest of the people here at Waverly, a lot like me, even though she's perceived differently because of her…um… cleavage. She also told me how she has a small obsession for black-haired-blue-eyed boys. I told her that black-haired-blue-and-green-eyed boys are where it's at. She thought deeply about it for a moment and agreed enthusiastically afterward.

From then on, I knew we would be best friends.

"Holy shiznits! What _are _those things? What kind of disgrace to the fashion world is that?" She said, pointing with a horrified expression at the dresses we were holding.

"These are the dresses Tinsley and Callie expect us to wear to the Welcome Dinner. If it's the last thing I do, I shall embarrass them as more than we will be when we have to walk out in these…_things,_" Massie said, curling her lip as she looked once more at her dress.

"Hmm." Jenny plucked Massie's dress from her grasp and studied it carefully. She then went around grabbing the rest of ours and looking at them with the same level of attention. The question on all our minds was, "What is she going to do?"

Jenny walked over to her dresser (we were in my room) and grabbed an enormous box filled with who-knows-what. A smile spread slowly on her lips and she looked up at us. "Girls, I think it's time we make a few adjustments to these dresses."

We all smirked back.

-0-

We strutted our way to the Welcome Dinner on the brink of being fashionably late (here at Waverly, they were very particular about punctuality) in our newly adjusted dresses.

Alicia's dress was given a slit on both sides and the heels were exchanged for something Jenny had in her closet. She also tried to draw less attention to the generally unflattering colors with funky (and distracting) accessories. Mine was dyed black with Jenny's kit (sadly, it's the only color she had) and given tiny white flowers on the hem. Dylan's was given lining (a lot of lining since it was _that _transparent) and the straps were cut off to make it a strapless. Kristen was given tights and an undershirt layered beneath while Jenny added as much length as she could in the short amount of time to the dinner. It reached mid-thigh. Massie's was given a belt to give it some form of shape and the V-neck was sewed closed and into a sweetheart neckline. Jenny also cut the dress so it brushed against her knees. I honestly wonder why we didn't think of doing all that ourselves.

Guess the PC is good at buying clothes, not fixing them.

I mouthed a quick thanks to Jenny who was next to me (in a red cocktail dress), trying not to break formation. Jenny grinned back. She was admitted to our little 'Walk of Fame' since Massie deemed her "super cool" for fixing the clothes. Jenny just seemed happy to be accepted.

Massie walked a bit quicker than You Belong With Me by Taylor Swift and we all rushed ahead, giving each other side-a-long looks. Massie must be _really _excited to go and show up Tinsley. This had that-scene-in-What-A-Girl-Wants written all over it.

My mind began to drift off as we entered the dining hall, all eyes staring at us typically. I wonder why Cam hasn't texted me. I mean, sure, it was a school day for him over at Briarwood, but he was supposed to text me afterwards. That was part of the whole just-friends-with-maybe-a-little-more policy we had. And it was going good, thank you very much!

Though, I am pretty glad we're 3,000 miles away from him. Maybe then, I can finally fully get over him! I was starting too, even while we were talking, but he just makes me want to scratch the itch that screams, "Must kiss Cam Fisher!" It kind of sucks to have that sense actually.

Suddenly, I bumped into Jenny who had gotten in front of me. She had bumped Kristen who had stopped who bumped Dylan who almost caused Alicia to fall on Massie who had stopped without warning. I tilted my head to the side to try to see what was so catastrophic that Massie stopped before we finally were able to sit down on the table. When I saw who was sitting there, assigned at out table, I could only let out a gasp. My eyes widened as I thought, "No, no, no!"

In a deathly low and horrified voice, Massie asked, "What are _you _doing here?"

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Cliffy :) Though, you probably already know who it is. Even though this chapter was absolutely sucky (and with the simple purpose of you finding out what happened to the clothes dilemma and to meet the It Girl girls (that sounded _so _lame)) review and tell me what you think?

Next chapter _is _better. Scouts honor (even though my Girl Scouts days are _long _over).


	5. Chapter 5

**Waverly Owls Don't Refrain From Acting Rude To Those They Dislike, Especially If They Happen To Be Your Ex-Girlfriend**

_(Derrick's POV) _

Holy freaking crap. I must be hallucinating; there is no possible way that they are here. Mainly _her. _I travel 3,000 miles to get away from her and those girly trailers she recreated and she comes with me to haunt me.

Kill me now.

She was pointing at me with a face that mirrored my own. Her eyes were bulging and she looked suffocated. I quickly changed my face to a condescending look I'm sure she would recognize. She's used it on others herself plenty of times.

"Hey, Block. I should think you would know why we're here. It's called getting fed." I smirked at her while she pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes.

"How _different_ from what you usually do, this eating concept," she said sarcastically. "What I really meant under that revolted tone was, 'Why are you here at Waverly instead of at BOCD?' Though, seeing how terrible you bunch are, I'd see why they wouldn't want you."

Chris and Kemp gave yelps of disagreement, but I raised my hand, stopping their whines. I could take care of this. "Well, it's definitely different from what you usually do. I don't think I have ever seen you eat anything other than salad and fat free fro-yo. Why don't you and your cult sit down, Block, while I explain why we're here? You're attracting a crowd," I said, gesturing toward the empty seats with their names on place cards.

She stared witheringly at me, taking a seat nonetheless. Her group followed, though there was a new girl with them. I found myself staring a bit awestruck at her. This mysterious girl was beautiful with her long curly hair and delicate features. I just wanted to grab her hand and drag her out of the room to somewhere where my ex wasn't. And maybe kiss her until she is as mesmerized as I was.

A subtle clearing of the throat brought me back to the scene. I turned toward the noise and saw that Cam was tilting his head toward Massie and her amused raised eyebrow.

"Done staring at Jenny, Harrington?"

Damn, she caught me. Nevertheless, I found out her name: Jenny. What a beautiful name it was! Well, I'd think any name she had would be beautiful, even if it were something like Tallulah. I snuck a peek at Jenny and she was staring at her empty plate, her face a shade of crimson that made fire trucks feel shame.

"Yeah, I'm done. Now, you wanted the answer to why we-" I was interrupted by more seats at the table being taken. I turned and saw that there were three girls and four boys.

There was a girl with violet eyes (wow, another person with weird eyes) and black hair, glaring at Block and the Pretty Committee's dresses. I don't see what's so bad about them (well, Alicia's could do some adjusting). There was another girl with her nose in the air and dark blonde hair, similar to my hair color. Lastly, there was a girl with her head tipped to look at her lap, seeming uncomfortable with the people around her. She had shiny light brown hair, glasses, and a clip that had Superman's logo. Cam immediately started trying to get her attention, despite the fact that Claire was right next to him.

He always did have a fetish for geeky girls.

As for the dudes, I saw Josh's obsessively clean roommate Brandon. He literally yelled at Josh for twenty minutes for leaving his dirty shirt on Josh's own bed. Speaking of, he's staring at Block pretty intently. I could tell she was trying to avoid his gaze, but sneaking tiny glances at him every so often. I remember that from when we were dating.

There was my roommate, the super tall Julian. He didn't really talk much and mostly paid attention to his iPod when I first met him. However, he seemed _really _talkative while he chatted up Kristen about God knows what. His arm was also around Jenny's chair, making my fists clench in anger. I saw Kemp's roommate, Heath, staring at Alicia's funbags a little more than acceptable in this stuffy atmosphere. Easy, Cam's roommate, was easily having conversation with the girl with the dark blonde waves and Claire simultaneously. I think we might have a problem with those three if Waverly is as dramatic as BOCD. Chris and his roommate, Sebastian of the Italian-looking people, were talking between themselves, laughing harder than I have ever seen him laugh.

"Anyway," I started, bringing everyone's attention to me, "We're here because we couldn't bear to stay in those ultra girly caves you designed in BOCD. So here we are."

"You designed caves?" the girl with the violet eyes asked snootily.

"_No_, Tinsley, I designed classrooms. They were absolutely horrendous before, and like these outfits you gave us, we fixed them up." Block sneered at her.

"Humph." Tinsley flipped her hair over and brought her attention over to the blonde girl, muttering a quick, "Callie, the plan must start _soon._"

Girls and their power struggles.

"Harrington, why couldn't you and your friends just petition to transfer into the Main Building? Despite the fact that no one would want you in there, I'm sure you could have gotten in with your Daddy's money. In fact, do it now! Can't you tell we'd rather you be there than here?" Block responded, a saccharine smile on her face.

I chuckled lowly. "Are you sure they wouldn't accept us or that Waverly doesn't want us here? I mean, we are ridiculously good-looking. Your little clique dated us after all. And Massie Block can't date someone who wasn't acceptable!" I said in a girly falsetto at the end.

A muffled laugh next to Julian caused us to look over. We saw Jenny trying to hide a smile underneath her hand as the salmon starting to be served at the tables around us.

"Something funny, Jennifer?" Block asked, tilting her chin up so she could look down at her.

"Well, it's just seems really obvious that you two had a bad breakup. Your fighting is just really _charged_, that's all." She smiled at us, a shred of mocking underneath.

"I wouldn't call it charged. Harrington doesn't really have it in him to last too long in something active, does he?" Block looked at me innocently.

_Ouch. _She just attacked the manhood. She. Is. Going. Down.

"And Block over here doesn't have the attention to anything but fashion and being high-maintenance, right?" I asked in return. Not the best, but all I can think of on the spot.

Jenny laughed again. "This is exactly what I mean."

"Whatever," we both mumbled.

"_Dude, _are you eating the salmon?" Heath asked incredulously at Dylan who had dug into the salmon finally at our table.

She swallowed her bite. "First of all, I'm not a 'dude'. As you can see, I'm a girl. Yes, I'm eating the salmon. Has all that pot fried what last brain cells you had, Heath?"

"There are still some brain cells left," he leered. "But, it's just a Waverly tradition _not _to eat the salmon. It's, like, not done."

"Well, I want to eat the salmon. So, I'm going to and no lame tradition is going to stop me." Dylan put a large bit of the pink fish in her mouth and smiled (closed mouth, of course) victoriously.

Block smiled happily, probably because one of her own had stood up against some longstanding tradition. Though, I can see that under than smile, was fierce jealousy because she didn't do it first. Dating her made me very receptive to how she _really_ acts.

Throughout the rest of dinner, I chatted up Jenny with my roommate glaring holes into the back of my (admittedly gorgeous) head. Hey, once I set my sights on someone, they will be mine.

And no taffy-pulled boy is going to stop me.

--

**Waverly Owls Do Not Engage In Slutty Contests (Unless It's Absolutely Necessary)**

_(Alicia's POV)_

Can someone please give me a steak knife so I can stab this pervert in his wandering eyeballs? If he does not stop looking at me like that, I think I may just throw my plate filled with the barely touched salmon at his freaking head!

"Heath, is there a problem with your eyes? Such as their inability to look me in the face and not the chest?" I asked at last.

He looked up and stared into my eyes deviously. "Well, if your face was as interesting as what goes on under your neck then I might look at it more often."

I crossed my arms over those problematic assets. "Can you stop, though? It's really awkward to have some random boy looking at me like I'm a piece of meat!"

He rolled his eyes and shook his head in pity. "I should've known," he muttered.

"You should have known what?"

"Nothing, A, nothing at all," he responded, seeming intent on making me beg him to tell me. Damn those honed gossip muscles! I could tell Heath was a gossiper too. I have played that 'nothing' card many times.

"If it was truly nothing, you wouldn't have said it and I wouldn't be here asking about it." I slammed my knife (somewhat quietly) on my plate in a threatening manner. Heath raised an eyebrow, calling my bluff. Oh, he's good. That would have scared most people.

"Fine, I'll tell you," he started as if this was some great hindrance for him. "I meant that I should've known you're just another high-strung, shopping-obsessed, prude."

My eyes narrowed and my voice was deathly quiet. Oh, _he did not. _"Excuse me?"

"Do you want me to repeat it, Alicia dear? Because I have absolutely no problem calling you a high-strung-"

"Shut up!" I glared at him. He has no _idea _who he's messing with. I am **not** a prude.

He grinned. "Come on, babe, it's pretty obvious that you are. Most girls would have been fawning all over the place from the attention I've been giving you. I would have already bed them and the moved on to the next one."

Oh my God, he's like the extra pervy and sexual Kemp Hurley! Man, I cannot _imagine _what it would be like if they roomed together. Even Waverly must know not to add two depraved boys (one much worse than the other is) in a room.

Right?

I scoffed at his statement. "One, don't call me babe. I am not your little plaything, okay _honey_? Two, girls like that have no idea what an imbecile they are sleeping with. I wouldn't dare do anything with you. Who knows what kind of diseases I might get from you and your whoring?"

He seemed unaffected by what I had told him, only giving another one of his smirks. "Please, I doubt you'd go near any guy. You're a virginal little girl who can't play with the big boys." He leaned closer to me, baring his perfect teeth at me, practically suffocating me with his intoxicating cologne. _No_, it is not intoxicating. It's disgusting and creepy_. _"And you can call me honey any time you want. Here, there, under the bed sheets, anywhere!"

I think I threw up in a mouth a bit.

I pushed him away from me, needing a little more brainpower and his scent was _not _helping. "Like I said, I wouldn't do anything with you. But I am not a 'virginal little girl who can't play with the big boys'. I am perfectly capable of flirting and being seductive around guys. Just not to the extent you do with girls. Or guys, who knows what your libido makes you crave?" I gave him a Massie-inspired sneer.

Heath laughed uproariously, mocking me. "Trust me, I only battle for one team, and it's the one that girls who are more outgoing than you are on. But, do you want to bet that you're capable of being seductive?"

I raised an eyebrow. "What do mean by that, Heath?"

"I mean, Alicia, why don't we have a little contest? Show me that you can be sexy to guys and I'll show you that girls _do _go after me. What do you say?" He extended his arm towards me to shake.

I ignored it. "Are you saying you want me to get into some sort of slutty contest?" He cannot possibly be serious!

"That's exactly what I'm saying. So, are you in or out?" He moved his outstretched hand around, trying to tempt me to shake his hand.

There were so many things _wrong _with this. I'm not slutty or seductive in any way! I got Josh by appealing to his gossiping nature and the fact that my dad could totally sue him. Nevertheless, how could I let Heath win? If there is something I can't stand, it's letting someone beat me. I've had enough of Massie Block doing that to me for a lifetime. And I _know _this sandy haired ball of evil would never let me forget backing out.

I grabbed his hand and shook it forcefully. "Deal."

Why can't I help but think I've made a pact with the devil? Oh right, because I just _did_.

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Someone besides me _needs _to write an Alicia/Heath. I had so much fun with them. It was like a Chuck/Blair and slightly AU Dramione. And those couples just make me sigh and go "THEY NEED TO GET TOGETHER!" Speaking of, is anybody as happy as me that Chuck finally said it?

By the way, did anyone see the irony in what Derrick said about Jenny's possible name?

Anyway, you had a glimpse to the pairings and love triangles immerging. But no, there shall be no Massington or Clam. I want everyone to be mixed. :) Now press that fun little button down there and review?


	6. Chapter 6

**Waverly Owls should not have multiple identities. **

Brett Messerschmidt sat in the outside gazebo, collecting her thoughts as the sun started to peek over the horizon. She couldn't sleep, so she gathered up a fleece blanket and threw it over her black BCBG sweater dress that she wore over red leggings. The air outside was chilly, since it was nearing the fall season, and everything was peaceful considering classes didn't begin for two hours or so.

Gazing at the pretty flowers around her, Brett began thinking of the dinner party of the night before. Those new girls weren't all that bad. They seemed likeable. At least more than Tinsley and Callie were. The first day Brett had met them, they had snickered over her red hair and how she thought she was a 'hipster' of some sort. Soon, they figured out that the hair matched her personality, fire-y and original, and just like that, she was accepted. But these girls, they had given her a chance the first time they met her. She liked them.

The redhead, Dylan, was one that she was especially fond of. She ate carelessly, was hilarious, and seemed to be on Brett's same wave length.

Suddenly, Brett heard the crunching of leaves. She looked up and saw _that boy_ standing towards the entrance of the gazebo. She quickly lowered her head. He could _not_ notice her. At dinner, she had taken major precautions so that he didn't see who she was. She couldn't stand the fact that the boy whose heart she had broken once upon a time was right back in her life. Chris Plovert, the one part of New Jersey she had been reluctant to leave behind, was back.

She smiled up at him, praying to anybody listening that he wouldn't recognize her.

"Hey, isn't it pretty early to be out here all alone?" He said, with that hint of a Jersey accent.

"I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself," she retorted. Chris had always been the protective type.

"Oh, I can see that. Just wanted to keep you company, you know. Pretty girls should never be left alone." He gave her that grin that had made her fall head over heels about four years ago. She tried to ignore the feelings it brewed in her stomach, but that was almost impossible to do. How do you ignore a tingling coursing through your whole body?

She shivered as the feeling passed through, like an electric current.

"Are you cold?" He started taking off his leather jacket.

"No, no… I have to go…" She smiled at him shortly and gathered her blanket and began to move away.

He reached out and grabbed her hand, confusion storming in his eyes. She turned towards him and tried to avoid those eyes that seemed to be searching hers for answers.

"I didn't get your name…" he said softly.

Oh gosh, oh gosh, oh gosh… She couldn't give him her name. He would automatically know!

"Um, Blaire Masterson, but everyone calls me B." She despised lying, but this was just a white lie, to save them both the hurt. How she was going to follow through with 'B', she didn't know, but she'd figure out a way.

He nodded happily, and let her go. She gave him a smile and a small wave and left the gazebo without turning back. All she could think as she went back to her dorm was 'What am I getting myself into?'

--

**Waverly Owls Use What They Were Born With, Especially The Parts That Help Them Win A Bet**

This is not going to end well, I just know it.

We're both in the courtyard, hidden in the shadows and away from the prospective people. And by prospective people, I mean someone who I have to seduce to prove to Heath Ferro that I'm not a "high-strung, shopping-obsessed, prude". Damn him and my pride! The boys who _can _see me are leering as they stare at that stupid body part that got me into this Heath-mess. I refrain from crossing my arms over my chest, a habit I'm trying to break. Who knows? Maybe I'll need those troublesome, puberty-inspired balloons.

Heath nudged me from my musings, bringing me back to the awful reality of the contest. "So, Alicia dear, are you ready to give up? Because we're wasting time just watching. This kind of gorgeous wasn't meant for shadows." He grinned cockily as he struck a pose and I rolled my eyes at him. Really? Does he truly think he's the shit of the school? Because trust me, I've seen a lot cooler people, i.e. _me. _

I shoved him harshly, and watched in satisfaction as he stumbled slightly from the unexpected assault. "Trust me, H, I'm _winning _this contest."

"Well then, go out there and prove it."

I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the possible rejection. I've _never _done anything like this. My last experience with a boy? Josh Hotz, aka the boy who wasn't fully over Claire Lyons. When he finally did get over her, and wanted a relationship, it's not like we ever did anything. We kissed once, and that was sloppy, much too wet, and quite frankly, disgusting.

Whoever I have to kiss (because apparently that's the only to prove that someone is seduced) better have some better technique. Because I swear, with all this stress, not to mention Massie's late night plotting to bring down Tinsley and Callie, I _would _throw up in his mouth.

And that's not the best reputation to start off with at Waverly.

I strutted around the walkway, seeing boys staring lustfully (great…) after me and assessed my choices. There was that boy with really dark hair (_no, too much like Josh_), a boy with the loveliest green eyes in existence (_no, too much like stupid Harris)_, and a tall boy with dark gold hair and a guitar strap wrapped around his swimmer frame.

Oh. He'll do.

I turned up the full charm of myself and walked with a confident and easy smile towards him. His friend, a slightly smaller kid with short, wavy black hair and a tanned complexion, nudged him wildly, trying to make him see that I was coming towards them. The blond looked at me briefly, and I noticed his startling blue eyes. He looked back to his friend, who gave him an evil smirk and laughed, walking away and leaving him alone. The boy looked back towards me, seeming slightly nervous, and I grinned at him.

I finally reached him, and smiled even wider. "Hey," I said breathily. As I looked into his eyes, I noticed there was more than just blue. There was green, grey, and even some yellow. I _really _knew how to pick 'em. In studying his eyes, I almost missed his response.

"Hey, I'm Cesar. _Very _nice to meet you." Cesar grinned rakishly at me, in a very Clark-Gable-esque way. He tugged on his guitar strap and jumped a bit in place, seeming hyper beyond belief. Well, that might get annoying later on.

"Alicia," I told him with a giggle. "So, you play guitar, I see. Are you _good_?" I teased slightly, actually wanting to see if he can play. Maybe he can serenade me if I ever need a laugh…

"Oh I'm very good." He beamed and quickly grabbed his guitar from his pack. As he did this, I looked around. I saw the boy he was with making out with this equally diminutive black-haired girl (god, they need a room) and then spied Heath lounging on the grass. He had taken off his shirt (holy chizz, who knew assholes could look _that _good under their shirts? NO. This is a lie. They look flabby and pale and are overall icky.) with a bunch of girls prattling around him. Heath winked sardonically at me when he caught me looking and I quickly looked away.

Damn him and his nicely tanned chest.

I turned back to Cesar who had finally gotten his guitar out and was beginning to tune it. I'd had some mild musical training with dancing and all so I smiled happily when I heard the tuned guitar. I frowned as soon as he started playing.

He was playing Dani California by the Red Hot Chili Peppers and despite the perfect purple guitar, his playing, simply put, sucked. My eyes were widened in shock as he played horrendously, and my mouth dropped open in horror when he began to belt out lyrics. His singing could probably give his guitar-playing a run for its money in the "What can make Alicia's ears bleed fastest?" contest. Thankfully, he was concentrated on the guitar and wasn't noticing me and my reactions. As soon as he finished the most traumatizing musical experience in my life, he looked up and I composed my face into one of intense interest and admiration.

I shouldn't make the poor boy feel too bad. I'm only using him to beat Heath, anyways.

"Well," he said sheepishly. Maybe this whole thing was an elaborate joke and he _could _play? "It sounds better with my band. Just one person sounds kinda lame." Apparently not.

"No!" I nearly shouted, my features taking a look of false shock. "That was beautiful! Magical even!"

"Really? I could play again if you want…" Cesar's fingers poised above the guitar, preparing to make me go deaf again.

I grabbed the guitar, wrestling it away from him. Those fingers are evil, must remember that. "NO! That's okay. Save your energy. I'd like to hear you and your band sometime. I'm sure it would be _very _exciting." My voice lowered and I trailed a finger along his arm, smirking in satisfaction when I saw goose bumps appear. I moved my head close to his ear, to whisper the next part. "In fact, I have a better use for that extra energy…" I trailed off, my voice puffing warm air around his ear, letting me feel more goose bumps along his arm.

It's go-time now; he either kisses me, or rejects me. And I hope, to all that is holy and right with the world, that he kisses me back.

My face moved away from his ear and towards his mouth, kissing the corner softly. I pulled away slightly, and sighed in relief when I felt his arms wrap around my hips and bring me back in, my eyes closing involuntarily. Cesar kissed me properly, and it, surprisingly, wasn't as bad as Josh's. Yes, it was creepily enthusiastic (and I was surprised he even wanted to when he barely knew me), but I was fine with it. I opened one of my eyes, and sought out Heath. His harem had left, but his shirt was still off. He was propped up on one arm, watching me with a slightly angry expression. Yes, H, I _win. _

I drew away from Cesar's lips, feeling slightly empty. How weird. Normally I feel at least some… sated feeling. Now, I just feel like this is all part of a game. Well, it kind of _is. _I moved even farther back and saw him with the excess of my red gloss on his lips. I kissed his cheek softly, and said, "I've got to go. See you around."

I felt a slight… guilt in doing this. But, I'm sure he'll understand. He barely knew me, anyways. I crossed the yard over to Heath's perch. I smiled smugly at him. Even with the guilt raking up inside of me, I can still get immense pleasure from rubbing it into Heath's face.

"See, Heath, I am _not _a prude. And can easily attract guys." I smiled even wider in victory, the thrill more than anything I felt while making out with Cesar.

He scoffed, standing up and putting his shirt back on. Thank God. "You attracted one guy. This competition is _far _from over. After all, tomorrow is another day." He smiled smugly at my shocked face and started walking away. I was left dumbstruck at his _Gone With the Wind _quote and the whole phrase itself.

This _really _isn't going to end well.

* * *

I really enjoy using real people in stories. I get to do _whatever _I want with them :)

Anyways, hope you like the almost tease-like part for Brett/Plovert and Alicia's first task. The slutty contest is going to be beyond fun to write :D

With Love to our readers (and reviewers, we _really _love you), RhiniHeartBreaker and Sarcastic Twists


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